


Run, Rabbit, Run

by sanitysrebellion



Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Additional Characters, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Expanding on Nohara Rin, F/M, Gen, Other Additional Tags to Be Added
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-13
Updated: 2017-11-04
Packaged: 2018-12-27 17:54:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12086268
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sanitysrebellion/pseuds/sanitysrebellion
Summary: Nohara Hanami looked up to her older sister for as long as she could remember. Rin exemplarated everything a good medic-nin should be. She was a person as bright and warm as the sun. She left behind a void impossible to fill; but Hanami would try.The shape left behind of a person gone too soon and the role the person remaining chooses to fill.Expanding on the life of Nohara Rin before and during her time on Team Minato. Her family, friends, hopes, and aspirations. All the things she left behind, and all the things her sister shouldered in the wake of loss.





	1. Chapter 1

The kitchen was the sole room of the house illuminated, even at the early hour. Sunlight was just beginning to peek over the treeline, painting the sky outside the window in oranges and reds. The room smelled of breakfast, the table already meticulously set: placemats, napkins, teacups, bowls, plates, chopsticks. Four place settings, three empty chairs. The rice cooker had clicked to warm several minutes earlier and a vase of flowers fresh from the backyard garden had been placed at the center of the table.

Chiharu bustled around the kitchen as if the morning meal had yet to be prepared, hands searching for any work to keep them busy. Her long hair tied back in a tight bun at the base of her neck and dyed a deep coral in the conflicting light: morning sunrise and the overhead light above the sink and stovetop. Though her makeup was already in place the woman had yet to get dressed for the day, her silk house robe tied tightly over her pajamas.

Her husband was the sole occupant at the table, dressed for work with his white medic coat folded over the back of his chair. His dark brown hair still stuck up in the back, despite all brushing attempts, and a pair of black glasses sat low on his nose. One leg crossed, ankle resting just above his knee, as he browsed the morning paper.

“You’re pacing,” Hiroto said without looking up from the newspaper. “At this rate you’ll wear through the floor.”

His wife turned on her heel to face him, green eyes flashing. “What do you expect me to do, when my child is being sent out to war?”

The man sighed, folding his paper and and setting it on the table. He pulled his reading glasses from his face, placing them over the morning headline. “Rin is graduating from the Academy, Chiharu. She isn’t being sent to the front lines of a war that hasn’t even happened yet. Tension doesn’t always mean war, it’s been four years since the last one ended. I can’t imagine anyone is eager to return to it; not even Iwagakure.”

Chiharu leaned forward, resting her palms against the wood of the table and fingers curling as if she could wrest ahold of the situation and physically pull it back into her control. The woman had never been trained as a shinobi and Hiroto was no sensor, but even he could feel her anxiety plucking at her natural chakra reserves. “But for how long, Hiroto? How long until-” the woman stopped short, biting at her painted lip. “They're  _ children _ . You're a  _ medic _ .” Chiharu hissed, almost pleading. “You've seen what can happen in war, and those are the ones that make it back!”

Hiroto reached out, gently pulling one of his wife’s hands from the tabletop and carefully obtaining their fingers. “Listen to me, Haru-chan” he began, relying on the childhood nickname and brushing a thumb over the back of her hand.

Chiharu pressed her painted lips into a thin line, though she didn't pull her hand free. “Don't you ‘Haru-chan’ me, Hiroto. You-”

“No, listen,” he continued, “Rin is graduating. Genin aren't sent anywhere near the main fighting; most won't even leave the village until after their Chunin Exam. And besides that she's already made it clear that she wants to study medical ninjutsu. Rin will be fine.”

“She’s  _ nine _ ,” Chiharu insisted, gesturing widely with her free hand. She pulled free from his hold, fingertips lingering for a heartbeat, before resuming her high energy circuit of the kitchen. “Nine, Hiroto! I know regulations have changed since the war before, but what good is a nine year old supposed to do? And Hanami!”

The medic held up his hands in an appeasing gesture, though his wife didn't seem to be looking in his direction. “Hanami has two more years before she graduates. For all we know the war will never start and the age twelve graduation requirement will be reinstated. You'll worry yourself sick of you keep this up.”

“Hiro-kun,” his wife whined, briefly reminding him of the girl he had met all those years ago. “You can't tell me not to worry. I know you're on the rotation for field medic, if anything happens. The children are following in your footsteps. How am I supposed to not worry with all three of you gone and this house is empty?”

“That isn't something that can happen any time soon,” Hiroto reminded her. He rose from his chair, catching his wife by the elbow on her fourth round of pacing and pulling her to him. He reached up, smoothing the stray hair from her face. “The only thing that is going to happen today is Rin will get her Genin team assignment and Hanami will have another day of class.” Hiroto turned, leading his wife into the easy sway of an impromptu dance. “And you, hopefully, will take some time to sit out at the back garden with some tea and relax. You still remember how to do that, don’t you?”

This time she laughed, though the sound was tinged with her lingering anxiety. “No, I don’t think I can manage something so strenuous.”

“Things will be fine,” Hiroto repeated, pressing a kiss to his wife’s forehead.

Chiharu frowned, but didn’t argue. “Do you know who her Jounin-sensei will be? Who will be on her team?”

The medic shook his head, leading the woman back to the kitchen table and pulling out a chair for her to sit. “You’ll just have to hear it from Rin when she comes home.”

“Oh, what good are you, Hiroto?” Chiharu sighed, dropping into the chair with a wave of her hand. “If you want me to relax you could at least find me the information I need.”

“I could make something up?” The man offered with an arch of his eyebrow. “Sandaime-sama has decided Rin will be the next Hokage. She’s to be instated next week and I imagine her first act will be to repaint the Hokage tower pink.”

“Hush you,” the housewife reached over and smacked her husband’s arm lightly, though a fond smile tugged at her lips. “You were never very good at that.”

“I thought that was why you married me,” Hiroto countered, returning to his own chair.

The floor creaked. Both parents looked up, Hiroto paused with his reading glasses half-raised to his face once more. Barely visible around the line of the doorframe was their youngest daughter. The early morning sunrise painted her hair in shades of pink; spring flowers falling in messy waves and tangles over her shoulders.

“Hana-chan!” Chiharu scolded, with no real bite to her voice. “It’s too early for you to be up!”

Hanami looked between her parents, dark brown eyes narrowed in the best scrutinizing look a seven year old could manage. “Were you two fighting?”

The two adults exchanged a brief look, Hiroto lowering his glasses back to the tabletop before turning his attention back to his daughter. “Do you think we're fighting?”

Hanami considered, pressing her lips into a thin line. “Someone felt angry. I think it was mama.”

The medic bit back a sigh. While he was no sensory type his youngest child was, with the household solidly within her range. It had been a small blessing when Hanami had been younger and allowed out on small errand runs or outings; she almost never got lost with a familiar chakra signature to lead herself back to. It was one of the few aspects of the shinobi lifestyle that Hiroto had no idea on how to help train his daughter.

“Oh, sweetheart,” Chiharu waved her daughter over. Hanami entered the kitchen proper but didn't run over to her mother, choosing instead to claim her seat at the table. “It was just a little arguement. We didn't mean to wake you.”

“Why don’t you try to go back to sleep?” Hiroto offered. “The sun isn’t up yet.”

Hanami shook her head, not looking up from the tabletop. “I’m awake. Can I have some tea?”

Chiharu reached over, smoothing her youngest’s daughter’s hair down before standing to fill the kettle. By the time the kettle had been filled and was heating on the stove Hanami had pushed the place setting away, resting her cheek against the cool wood of the tabletop.

“Your bed would be more comfortable,” her father offered, finally able to return to his morning paper.

“No,” Hanami argued, puffing out her cheeks. “I’ll just get back to sleep and it’ll be time to get up again.”

“Well, you can’t sleep at the table,” Hiroto chided gently from behind the newspaper. “If you’re so insistent on staying up, go do your morning stretches.”

“Tea,” the girl whined, patting her open palms on the tabletop.

“If you finish your morning exercises first the tea will be ready by the time you finish and it will be nearly time for breakfast,” Chiharu offered. “If you wait, you won’t have any time to enjoy it before you have to get ready for class.”

With all the grace and dignity a seven year old could muster at dawn, Hanami groaned and quite literally slid herself out of the chair. She laid flat on the floor for a moment before pulling herself back to her feet and padding out towards the back porch.

“And your Academy katas!” Hiroto added as the girl disappeared from the kitchen.

“But we do those before Taijutsu class!” Hanami argued back from the other room.

“You won’t get any better if you don’t practice.” The medic could hear his daughter groan as she pushed the sliding door open.

“I do feel bad for waking her,” Chiharu said, looking between the tea leaves in the cabinet. “But I will not feel guilty for worrying. That’s about all I can do.”

“And all too well sometimes, my dear,” Hiroto commented, turning the page of his newspaper.

Hanami stepped out onto the back porch. Though the sun had climbed a bit higher above the treeline the morning was still chilly with only her nightgown. Once she started moving things would be more comfortable. The backyard, small as it was, was mostly given over to a garden. In the more civilian sense: flowers with a focus on looking pretty and smelling good as opposed to having the potential to kill a man or slow the mind. Konoha’s temperate climate meant flowers could remain for most of the year; the scent perfuming the air was both comforting and familiar.

The girl exhaled slowly, closing her eyes. Upstairs her sister’s chakra was beginning to stir. Shifting as she woke and jumping with her excitement. Rin felt like a spring day- sunshine and dewdrops. The feeling of it was as comforting as the easy familiarity of her morning routine. Hanami felt the last of her lingering anxiety fading.

When Hanami returned, hair a mess and sticking to her forehead and neck with snaking tendrils like vines or tiny garden snakes, breakfast had been laid out proper on the table and there was a steaming cup of tea waiting. She smiled, bare feet padding against the cool kitchen floor.

“Thank you,” Hanami said to no one as she took her seat at the table and closed her hands around the cup. Her father’s crisp white coat was gone from the back of his chair, meaning her mother had gone to see him off. It was part of a familiar routine that Hanami knew well even without her sensory abilities.

Perfectly on cue her sister came down the stairs, springing gracefully from the last three steps. Rin landed near silently in a way only shinobi training could teach, and twisted, turning her landing into a neat turn. The end of her canvas apron-skirt fluttered cutely. Her previously long hair had been cut the evening before to frame her face. It was utilitarian, as was prominent in shinobi society, but it also flattering. Though their mother had lamented the loss.

“Ta-da!” Rin posed, beaming, to show off her outfit. Along with her newly acquired hitai-ate, she had chosen to wear the traditional Nohara Clan face paint: a blocky rectangle on each cheek in a lovely shade of purple that suited her face, as if they had always been there. “What do you think?”

“Well,” Chiharu smiled, returning from the entryway. It was almost possible to ignore the way her chakra spiked with renewed worry. “Don’t you look all grown up?”

The smile stayed on Rin’s face as she all but bounced over to the kitchen table. “Ah, Hana-chan! You’re not dressed yet? We have to leave after breakfast.”

Hanami took a long drink from her teacup before setting it back on the table and licking her lips. “I’ll hurry.”

“Don’t rush your sister,” their mother scolded softly. “I know you’re excited to meet your teammates, but Hanami has a normal class day. It won’t do her any favors to get there so early.”

“I'll hurry,” Hanami repeated, looking determined.

Chiharu sighed but let the issue drop. Turning to her oldest daughter, brushing her fingers through Rin’s nut-brown hair and tucking it behind one ear. “You’ll tell us all about your new team?”

“Of course!” The newly appointed Genin nodded, bouncing excitedly in her seat.

“Who do you think it'll be?” Hanami asked around a mouthful of food.

“Don't talk with your mouth full,” Chiharu frowned.

Rin pressed a fingertip to her cheek, considering. “I'm not sure. I hope not Gai-kun. He's nice and probably great to work with, but I'm not sure I could keep up.”

“You could,” Hanami insisted with the sort of confidence held by younger siblings. “And Gai-kun wouldn't let you get hurt easily.”

“But he’ll hurt himself,” Rin sighed, sounding resigned. “And try to wave it off with a smile.”

Chiharu gathered up her husband’s empty breakfast dishes from the table and carried them to the sink. The sound of the rubbing water dulled her daughters’ conversation. She scrubbed at the plates and tried not to dwell on injured children protecting other children.

Thankfully the conversation turned to other candidates for Rin’s new teammates, Hanami watching her sister from over the rim of her teacup. “What about Obito-kun?”

“Obito-kun has a lot of potential,” Rin answered, ignoring the gist of the question. “I don't think anyone really got the chance to see that in the Academy. It would be nice if people started to take him more seriously.”

“I'm sure that he's got a lot of expectations on him,” Hanami nodded, sounding years older than her seven year old stature. “Being an Uchiha. It must be a lot of pressure.”

“I didn't realize my children were suddenly so old,” Chiharu interrupted as she placed the newly washed dishes in the rack to dry. “Can't you go back to arguing over which crayon to use?”

“Nope!” Both girls answered in unison. Rin turned to her breakfast in earnest as Hanami slid out from her chair to go change for the day.

The youngest Nohara took the stairs two at a time with more of a bounce than she had a right to. There was nothing exceptionally exciting waiting for her in class today, but her sister’s enthusiasm was infectious. Hanami hummed a tune under her breath as she pushed open the door to her bedroom, something energetic and bouncy to fit the prevailing mood.

Dressing took little time, Hanami had made sure to set out her clothes the night before: the yukata styled dress for casual wear- similar to the one her sister owned but in spring green instead of lavender and patterned with simple flower shapes, the long socks favored by many kunoichi, and a simple belt for her pouches. The intention had been to allow her to sleep in a little longer, with her morning concerns pre-prepared, but the morning had gone differently. 

Hanami hurried through her morning routine; brushing her hair into some semblance of order and tying it loosely with a matching ribbon. It was a civilian preferred style, not combat sanctioned, but until she graduated from the Academy proper there was little reason to consider alternatives as long as it could survive a taijutsu class. The loose ponytail at the back of her neck and the colorful ribbon would suffice.

“You barely touched breakfast,” Chiharu frowned as her youngest daughter returned. Rin had moved along to the front door. “At least finish your miso soup.”

Hanami dutifully picked up her bowl from the table and drank from it. Her mother sighed, but said nothing. Instead, Chiharu sat the bento boxes- tied up in colorful fabric, one with seashells and one with cartoon bunnies- for Hanami to take.

The girl licked her lips, placing the now empty bowl back on the table and picking up the packed lunches. “Thank you. But doesn’t Nee-chan have a short day? She won’t be back in the Academy after team assignments.”

“No,” Chiharu agreed, following after her youngest daughter to the entryway. “But it might be a good team bonding experience to have lunch together, don’t you think?”

Goodbyes were said as Hanami stepped into her shoes. Rin threw open the door to a proper Konoha morning, all green leaves and bright sunlight. Several sparrows pecking at the yard were startled into flight, chirping noisily. The new Genin stretched her arms above her head, taking a moment to bask in the warm sun rays.

“This is the last day I’ll be able to walk with you to the Academy,” Rin said as they began down the street, a bounce in her step. Their mother waved from the doorway before disappearing from sight as they rounded a corner. “Think you can handle that, Hana-chan?”

Hanami huffed, puffing out her cheeks. “Nee-chan, I can manage walking to class and back. I’m going to be a Genin, too.”

The older girl laughed, bumping lightly into her sister’s side. “I don’t know~,” Rin laughed, teasingly jogging ahead. “You haven’t done anything alone before!”

“That’s not true!” Hanami insisted as she hurried to catch up. “And if it is, it’s because you were just too much of a mother hen to let me.”

“Oh!” Rin gasped, placing a hand to her chest. As her sister approached the Genin’s arm snaked out, grabbing Hanami about the shoulders and dragging her close, free hand scrunching through carefully combed hair. “I'll show you mother hen!”

Hanami squealed, unwilling to sacrifice their mother’s carefully prepared bentos for her escape. “Nooo!”

“Riin-chaan!” A new voice greeted, followed shortly by a flurry of footsteps. Obito channeling his Youth in a way Gai would approve of, appearing at full speed and waving his arms in greeting, plastic bag in hand nearly smacking him in the face. “Good morning!”

“Ah, Obito-kun,” Rin greeted, releasing her sister. Hanami shuffled away and blew the stray hair from her face. “Good morning. You made it, early even.”

The young Uchiha beamed, puffing up like a winter sparrow at the complement. “I set all the clocks in my house ahead by an hour.”

“Good...job?” Rin said slowly, offering her classmate a smile.

“I’m here too,” Hanami interrupted, sticking out her tongue. “What’s in the bag?”

Obito laughed, rubbing at the back of his neck and turning a little pink at the tips of his ears. “Haha, sorry Hana-chan. Good morning to you, too.” At the question he lifted the bag slightly, showing the logo from a nearby convenience store. “This? Just some Melon-pan from the store.”

Rin frowned, doing a very good impression of their mother’s disappointed face. “You woke up early and you still didn’t get breakfast?”

“Cooking is hard!” Obito attempted to defend himself, withering under the look. “And I was hoping to be done in time to walk with you…”

“Oh-ho,” Hanami smiled, passing her sister’s bento off to it’s proper owner and began walking ahead. “I can see when I’m not wanted.”

“Aw, don’t be like that,” the Uchiha deflated, shoulders drooping.

“Nope, I can’t hear you~,” the younger girl said over her shoulder, walking faster. “Ah, young love. An early morning date sounds so nice~.”

“Hana-chan!” Her sister shouted indignantly at the same moment Obito insisted, “You’re seven! Stop talking like an old lady.”

Hanami laughed, scurrying away and clutching her bento box as if it were some stolen prize.


	2. Chapter 2

Once seated in her usual spot in the Academy classroom Hanami wondered if her walk to class would have been better spent trying to get some of that melon-pan from Obito than teasing him and her sister. It had been worth it, in a way, to see Obito turn the same shade of red as his Clan crest but in doing so Hanami had missed out on acquiring a tasty snack to sneak after taijutsu class. The Nohara girl sighed, resigned to her loss, as the last of the stragglers were ushered through the door by the sensei.

Okura-sensei was a relatively young man, in the context of adults, greying early at the temples and in possession of a constantly irritated expression. In her years as an Academy student Hanami was uncertain that she had ever seen him make another face. The student rumor mill said it was because years of bad students and excited children had made him realize he hated his job; the hospital gossip chain cited chronic pain from an injury in the last Great Ninja War. Certainly there were longer lessons where he opted to lecture from his chair and, alternatively, there were times when he seemed to hold no real love for his job.

“Alright, you little hooligans,” Sensei made a wide gesture at the class, stepping into the room and shutting the door behind him with a loud clack. “Shut up and sit down.”

There was a general grumbling scattered about the class, one of the Inuzuka puppies doing a very good impersonation of an irritated child.

“As enthusiastic as always,” Okura-sensei snorted, pulling the chair out from behind his desk and dropping heavily into it. “But don’t worry, in a few years you’ll all be shipped off to some poor and unfortunate Jonin-sensei and I won’t have to see you again.”

_ It must be going to rain _ , Hanami thought absently as the man made no effort to stand for the lesson.

“You’ll miss us!” Someone shouted from the back of the room, even as the rest of the class gradually settled into a semblance of calm and composed.

“Everyone but you, Minamura,” Okura-sensei retorted, “Now, if we can get started with attempting to stuff knowledge into your tiny child brains, let’s begin. Today we’re discussing the medical system, including what makes Konoha’s hospital different from those found in other nations and the efforts of Senju Tsunade-hime to create something other than a festering cesspool where shinobi linger and die. Nohara, I expect to hear from you on the matter.”

Hanami sat a little straighter, feeling her face heat as the attention of the class was drawn to her. “Yes!”

“Good,” Okura-sensei nodded absently, making a vague gesture with his hand. “Now, even before Lady Tsunade’s medical revolution there was an asset that helped put Konoha on the map, so to speak. Who knows what that was?”

“The Medicinal Rabbits,” Hanami answered, “There’s rumor around the hospital that the First Hokage chose that location for the medical buildings and later a proper hospital because it was so close to their warrens.”

“Pure conjecture,” Okura-sensei leaned back in his chair, his wince of pain disguised as a narrowing of his eyes. “But yes, the Medicinal Rabbits have been a fixture around the hospital for generations. T-”

A blonde girl several seats ahead of Hanami raised her hand. She was at an angle that the Nohara girl couldn’t see her face but when she spoke she sounded confused. “Sensei? I don’t understand. What do bunny rabbits have to do with the hospital?”

“Yeah!” One of the Inuzuka boys near the back row added, throwing his arms in the air. “Aren’t they just food?”

“Don’t eat the Medicinal Rabbits!” Hanami gasped, brown eyes widening at the thought. It was concerning for a multitude of reasons, least of all the innocent, fuzzy things being ambushed by hungry dogs.

Okura-sensei sighed heavily, placing one large hand over his eyes as his class threatened to derail the entire lesson. “Enough, enough. Sit down, Inuzuka. I swear-” He cut off, taking a deep breath and presumably counting to ten before dropping the hand. “The Medicinal Rabbits of Konoha are a breed of intelligent rabbits, presumably naturally occurring but it’s not impossible they were once a type of Summon Animal. Follow?”

There were scattered nods and sounds of agreement from the class. An Akimichi girl raised her hand.

“We will cover Summon Animals at a later date.” The hand stayed up, Okura-sensei frowned. “Yes?”

“If these bunnies work for the hospital how come I see some around the Clan Head’s home sometimes? They have vests with the Akimichi Clan symbol.”

Two children with the pale blonde hair so common among the Yamanaka clan began whispering to each other, too low for Hanami to hear. One reached over to smack their Nara companion on the head and wake him up. He grunted and scooted farther away.

“Look,-” Okura-sensei began only to be cut short as the Yamanaka girl puffed out her cheeks in irritation. She stood from her chair, stomping over to the Nara boy and physically shaking him by the collar of his shirt.

“Explain, Shikamatsu,” she insisted, undeterred by Shikamatsu’s attempts to shrug her off. “Explain. I know you know the answer!”

The Nara boy groaned, finally vocalizing his annoyance. “Get off, get of-  _ FINE _ .” He threw his hands up, finally freeing himself from the blonde girl’s stranglehold. Shikamatsu took a moment to compose himself, smoothing the wrinkles from his shirt and straightening the collar. It refused to lay correctly again. “What was it? Medicinal Rabbits? Right. Most of them can be found around the greenhouses or medical herb gardens. Sometimes the hospital, I guess, but they stay out of sight there. Small groups are loaned on rotation to the Akimichi, Nara, and Yamanaka Clans usually through the R&D departments, probably because of our association with plants and medical research.”

“Why rotation?” someone from the middle of the room asked. “And how can you tell?”

Shikamatsu shrugged. “I don’t know, I don’t see them. It’s just what I heard. I don’t even like rabbit, too much trouble to catch.”

“Probably,” the Yamanaka girl from earlier piped up, finally returning to her seat proper. “It’s so they don’t get too tired. Like when store workers get a lot of overtime. The vests are like uniforms!”

“Sure, that,” Okura-sensei interrupted before a discussion on rabbit fashion could begin. “Now as I was saying before, in the early days of medicine and healthcare the Medicinal Rabbits were responsible for maintaining the abundance of wild herbs and teaching herbal remedies to those who would learn them. A good number of field-med techniques for non-medical shinobi are based on their skills.”

The lesson continued as smoothly as could be expected when a large portion of the class had short attention spans when not physically involved in a lesson. Okura-sensei glossed over the larger aspects of early medical care and the leaps-and-bounds progress Tsunade-hime had accomplished in her time as an active duty shinobi. Which was a shame, Hanami thought, as they were very interesting and revolutionary. He had practically tossed his notes in the air when one of the older girls in the class had asked about birth control and the jutsu to prevent menstrual cycles. A small scale riot had threatened to break out among the boys of the class and sensei had been forced to shunt the topic over as a kunoichi class discussion.

Okura-sensei dismissed the class for an early lunch, not even bothering to hide his relief as children began to file out of the classroom to take advantage of the sunshine. Hanami stood in the courtyard with her still wrapped bento and tried not to look disappointed. There was no sign of Rin; wherever she had gone to meet her teammates it wasn’t near the Academy.

“I guess that was too much to hope for,” Hanami sighed, attempting to resign herself to not knowing until they were both at home. “And I can’t even wheedle information out of Obito-kun.”

“An Uchiha shouldn’t be so easy to, what was that? Wheedle information from?” Came a voice from behind Hanami’s right shoulder. The Nohara girl squawked, spinning on her heel to face the newcomer. Her heart pounded in her chest, adrenaline spiking: She hadn’t even sensed someone approach! “Though, Obito has always done things his own way.”

The newcomer was a boy with the signature dark hair and matching eyes of the Uchiha Clan. His hair was cut short, sticking up on one side as if he had gone to sleep with his hair still wet from the bath. Distantly Hanami wondered how his mother had let him leave the house without attacking it with a hairbrush. She wasn’t able to judge if he was simply tall for his age or a year or two older than she was. The Uchiha, apparently having nothing else to add, moved away from the girl. As he passed Hanami realized he had also foregone the Uchiha-preferred high collar shirt, though the collar of his shirt was still popped as if he was attempting to make up for it. His forearms were bandaged and she recognized the faint scent of medical cream.

An arm dropped around her shoulders but thankfully Hanami had sensed the owner coming; heard him too, as he had made no effort to hide his footfalls. The girl wasn’t sure if she could handle two such surprises. It was far too easy to rely on her chakra sense to get a bearing on the situation. The second newcomer had the spiky, wild chakra found among the Inuzuka and conveniently was followed by a second smaller signature. This wasn’t one that felt overly familiar, not one of the Inuzuka from her class.

Hanami glanced to the side, the boy now draped across her shoulders as if they were longtime friends was also a typical example of his Clan: wild, dark brown hair sticking up in fluffy tufts, eyes like the canines they preferred, red face paint, and a preference for fur lined clothing. He caught her look and grinned, showing sharp eyeteeth.

“Hey,” he greeted, free hand reaching down to ruffle the ears of the dog at his side. “Tomoe doing his creepy sneaky thing again?”

The Uchiha, now several feet ahead, stopped short and turned his head to glower over his shoulder. “It’s called stealth. You should try it sometime.”

“It’s creepy!” the Inuzuka argued, sticking out his tongue. “How’re you even doing scent blocking already? I lost you coming out of class.”

“Scent blocking?” Hanami blinked, turning her attention back to the Uchiha boy. “But I couldn’t sense your chakra.”

“No shit?” the Inuzuka whistled low, and Hanami’s mouth dropped open in alarm. “Tomoe, buddy, chill out. We’re not even taking missions yet. Go lay in the grass, eat a bug. Be a kid some, man.”

“Eat a bug?” the Nohara repeated slowly, shooting a cursory glance at the tied bento in the dog’s mouth.

“Yeah,” the brunette boy laughed, patting her shoulder. “But not around an Aburame. They don’t like it.”

“They don’t-  _ Of course they don’t like it! _ ” Hanami bristled and the Inuzuka laughed harder. The Uchiha- Tomoe, apparently- took the opportunity to slink away. She noticed with mild relief that he had given up on hiding his chakra; the signature flickering to life, first a candle then a bonfire. Hanami shrugged the Inuzuka boy’s arm from her shoulders, stepping free of his reach. “Who are you anyway?”

“Oh sure,” he began, seemingly unbothered by the rejection of his casual affection. “I’m Inuzuka Shigure and this is my dog, Inumaru.”

Shigure gestured to the canine at his side who gave a muffled bark in greeting, tail fluffy wagging. Now that she was free of the boy’s hold Hanami could see the dog better. He was fluffy, especially around the neck and face, the color of uncooked bread dough, with a tail that curled over his back. He looked to be some sort of Shiba or perhaps Akita, given his size.

Hanami blinked slowly, mind working to process the new information before her. “Did you...did you just say that your dog is named ‘Dog’?”

The Inuzuka boy scratched idly at his cheek, just sort of his identifying Clan markings. His expression was nebulous, shifting between sheepish and defensive; as if he couldn’t decide if he was insulted or not. “Well, yeah, but it’s not as cool sounding if you say it like that.”

Cool?

“Ah, well,” the Nohara girl smiled, her mother’s carefully instilled manners finally returning to her. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Inuzuka-kun, Inumaru-kun.”

He snorted, something that might have been a short bark of laughter escaping before he could think better of it. “Hah, no. We’re not doing that. You can just call us by name.”

“Shigure-kun?” Hanami offered with a slight tilt of her head.

“We’ll work on it,” the Inuzuka relented, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “And you’re that other Nohara chick, right? Hanabi? Hanako?” Shigure squinted, leaning ever-so-slightly closer as if it would help him read her name from the air around her. “Sakura?”

“Hanami,” she corrected. “Nohara Hanami.”

Shigure snapped his fingers. “Yeah, that’s it.” He reached out, taking ahold of her wrist. His grip was firm enough that she couldn’t wiggle out of it, but not tight enough that it felt like a threat. “Come on, we’ll go bother Tomoe while we eat.”

“I don’t want-” Hanami began but Shigure had already begun walking, pulling her along with him as Inumaru trotted happily beside the pair.

Tomoe had tucked himself under one of the trees at the edge of the Academy courtyard, knees pulled up close to his chest and acting as a makeshift support of the book now in his lap. A book Hanami didn’t remember him carrying with him but it could have been on top of his bento box or squirreled away in the tree. His bento was open beside him and he somehow managed to pick at it with his chopsticks and keep his eyes firmly on the page without dropping rice down his front. A secret Uchiha technique no doubt.

“Hey nerd,” Shigure greeted and Hanami’s heart jumped into her throat. “What’re you reading today?”

Tomoe grunted in response, one hand turning the page of his book as the other stuffed a bite of rice into his mouth. He chewed in silence long enough for Hanami’s adrenaline spike to settle; it didn’t seem as if the Uchiha was offended by Shigure’s name calling. “A dissertation on the augmentation of Fire Nature chakra, specifically in regards to the Sharingan.”

The Inuzuka groaned, blowing a raspberry as he unpacked his bento. “Seriously?”

“Seriously,” Tomoe repeated, sparing a quick glance up from the book. “And you’re making your guest uncomfortable.”

“That’s because she’s standing all the way over there,” Shigure answered, mind apparently skipping over the implication that he was at fault. “Instead of sitting down and eating her lunch under this nice tree.”

“You don’t have to stay,” Tomoe offered, turning the page again. “Shigure often does what he wants but you don’t have to indulge him.”

“You two are close?” Hanami asked, noting the lack of honorifics. The lack of honorifics in Shigure’s speech she could already account to his personality and the general friendly nature of his Clan but Tomoe seemed the type to mind formality. Or, perhaps, that was simply her assumption.

“We’ve been in the same class since we started the Academy. The one across the hall from yours,” the Uchiha supplied. He paused to chew another bite of his lunch before continuing, “Don’t you call your classmates by name?”

Hanami blinked once, twice, considering his question. With sudden embarrassment she realized the answer. “No. No I don’t.”

“Oh yeah?” Shigure asked, not even bothering to chew his mouthful of food before he spoke. Inumaru, she noted, had his own tier of the bento box and was hurriedly eating his share. “Why’s that? You seem friendly enough.”

“Thank you?” Hanami offered as she took a seat on the grass. Though, if she were honest, she had no idea how in their brief meeting he had decided that, true or untrue. “I guess I usually spent time with my sister and her friends. I mean, it’s not like I was trying to ignore my classmates but…”

Shigure mumbled something around his rice that might have been ‘family is important’ while nodding his head emphatically but Hanami couldn’t be certain. Tomoe wrinkled his nose. “Chew, you animal.”

“I am,” the Inuzuka said, somehow stuffing more rice in his cheeks. “Chewing jus’ fine.”

Tomoe sighed but seemed to give up on insisting the lnuzuka find some semblance of manners. He glanced over the top of his book, meeting the girl’s eyes from across the makeshift lunch space. “You’ll get used to him.”

Hanami wasn’t sure if that was meant as a condolence or a threat.

“Um,” the girl began, snapping her disposable chopsticks in half. “If you don’t mind me asking, what happened to you?”

The Uchiha arched an eyebrow and said nothing. Hanami bit her bottom lip and gestured to her forearms.

“What makes you think it’s an injury?” Tomoe deflected, referring to the shinobi penchant for using bandages as utility and fashion.

“She can probably smell your bacon skin,” Shigure provided, mouth miraculously free of food for the moment.

“I-no,” Hanami began, looking horrified at the implied image. “Is it that bad? I recognized the burn cream, but if it’s that bad you should go to the hospital. Burns are-”

“It’s not that bad,” Tomoe insisted, turning a sour look to the other boy. “And I don’t have ‘bacon skin’, you-“

“Yeah, you’re a bit crispy, man,” the Inuzuka sniffed. As if to prove his master’s point Inumaru whined.

Tomoe sighed, closing his book with a snap. “Eloquent as ever.” To Hanami he added, “It was a mistake with fire jutsu. It...happens, though the Clan is loathe to discuss it in outside company.”

“So you shouldn’t have said that?” Shigure snickered, arching an eyebrow and grinning crookedly.

“Shut up,” the Uchiha supplied.

Hanami took a moment to chew a bite of her lunch, considering. “So the Uchiha must have a specialized burn cream? That might be more potent than hospital standard?”

“I can neither confirm nor deny,” Tomoe answered and Hanami made a mental note to attempt to get some for herself- preferably without her own burns.

As it turned out, the Uchiha’s earlier words had been a little of both: a condolence and a threat. Or perhaps more of a promise. Halfway through lunch it became clear that Shigure had decided they would be friends and would not be dissuaded. There were worse things, Hanami supposed, but dealing with the two boys at once was a bit like whiplash. Shigure seemed to be stuck at full-tilt, always high energy and friendly, while Tomoe did his best to stay calm but could be roused to annoyance and anger if prodded. At least that was her impression if this lunch period had given her any real insight.

Once the food was finished Shigure scampered off, his attention stolen by something else at the other end of the courtyard. Inumaru bounded off after his master, stumbling over his legs and tumbling into a nearby bush. The canine recovered quickly, barking his annoyance as he removed himself from the foliage. The Nohara and the Uchiha were left under the tree in silence. Tomoe returned to his book and Hanami had taken a moment to enjoy the sunshine. She tried to imagine what her sister was doing and if Rin would like her new teammates.

Then Okura-sensei appeared, smelling of cigarette smoke, to herd his class out of the courtyard for taijutsu class. “Let’s go, hooligans. Time to punch each other for a few hours.”

One of the other sensei made a face and turned to whisper to one of the administration office workers. Hanami frowned as she gathered her empty bento box, feeling oddly defensive of her teacher. Okura-sensei was an acquired taste and certainly rude and gruff in his own right but that was no reason to talk behind his back.

“Double time, Nohara!” Okura-sensei shouted and Hanami yelped, pulled from her thoughts. Bento gathered Hanami sprinted off across the courtyard to catch up with her class.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So Shigure doesn't follow the typical Inuzuka naming scheme of things like 'fang' and presumably dog puns but I'm hoping the reference is enough of a loophole to get away with it. Those of you familiar with Fruits Basket will remember that there was a Shigure in that series as well; the Year of the Dog in the Sohma zodiac. ;D


End file.
